


The Grace of a Perfect Design

by ColorlessPalette



Category: Barbie - All Media Types, Barbie in the 12 Dancing Princesses (2006)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Child Death, Gen, Grimdark, Human Sacrifice, Insanity, Self-Sacrifice, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 02:20:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorlessPalette/pseuds/ColorlessPalette
Summary: She was their surrogate mother; their guardian angel. Forged by royal purple, she was gifted eleven beautiful sisters to watch over and protect.But Ashlyn had other ideas.





	The Grace of a Perfect Design

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story ever on the archive so I apologize if it's not all it's cracked up to be. Also, this was partially inspired by Sheeva's "Cult of the Princesses."

The princess twirled the bloodied knife around elegantly in her hand, moving it slowly through the thick castle air. The voices in her head attempted to cloud her senses, to drag her down with them, but to no avail. Ashlyn walked down the dark hallway, her elongated shadow swallowing up the wall in her darkness; footsteps echoing off of the walls. Her royal purple dress was torn and tattered; scars she’d received from Twyla. Ashlyn remembered with great recollection how much of a fighter the little feline had been, even as she thrashed on the ground in her final moments, her claws never sheathing. Ashlyn had considered closing her eyes during the sinful actions, but she knew, deep down, that she simply couldn’t escape the burden. She had watched, wide eyed, as each sister had fallen to her. She had also watched as they each crashed to the ground. Hard. This was her sin to bare, and for a fleeting moment, Ashlyn relished in it. After all, she was the catalyst for their short lives, the angel of death and rebirth. 

Her short lived, regretful ego trip was all shattered when she had to take care of the young ones. The sweet children that Ashlyn had vowed to watch over every day. The children she cared so deeply for. As she continued walking, deadly deeds pressed into her skull, threatening her with haunting images prior to the current moment. She stopped walking as one in particular made her choke up. 

“No Lacey… Lacey, sweetie, we’re just playing a game,” Ashlyn had waved her hands in the direction of the little blond girl, and stood up as straight as her shaking spine would allow here to. All whilst Lacey looked on, confused and horrified. 

“A… a game?” Lacey asked. “C-can I play? Kathleen promised we’d play later today.” 

“Come here, sweet one,” Ashlyn concealed her knife and beckoned with her finger, a regretful smile trailing along her lips. “Of course you can play.” 

Lacey’s screams were plentiful that night. She could still hear them echoing through her thoughts. Ashlyn didn’t hold anything back, even though she desperately wanted to. More than anything in the world, she wanted to hold Lacey and whisper encouragement in her ear, like she did when she was a baby. But this was a different lifetime. Ashlyn cried out as she plunged the knife into her sister’s heart, mainly so she wouldn’t have to hear Lacey’s screams. A few minutes later, she stood up and inspected her handiwork. The marksmen of a butcher; a true monster. _You were supposed to protect her. She looked up to you._

Ashlyn wept softly to herself until the first crack of dawn.

~~~ 

“Ah Derek. My foolish brother in law.” 

Ashlyn smiled, enjoying the look of raw, unfiltered terror rippling through his baby blue eyes. She had finally reached her destination, and as grueling as the walk down the hallway full of memories was, the payoff was much, much greater. Even as she felt like a barbaric animal for doing what she did to her family, one might say that it was the triplets’ deaths that broke her completely. And Derek just happened to get caught up in it. She hummed softly to herself as she skewered him, ignoring his mutilated cries, only returning them by plunging the knife deeper inside him. 

Though Ashlyn didn’t want to admit it, she hadn’t been very fond of Derek from the moment they first met. That hatred only grew when he married her little sister, Genevieve. Not only was Derek thrust into her life against her will, but he was coupled with the only sister that overpowered Ashlyn’s sense of leadership and skill. For years, her younger sisters had heeded closer attention to Genevieve than their mentor. In all of her bloodlust adrenaline, Ashlyn declared this blasphemy. With one final jab, she punctured something important and her captive howled. 

Derek was dead. His lifeless eyes stared up at Ashlyn, seeing nothingness forevermore. She simply grinned back at his pale, bloodied face. Although he wasn’t part of the bloodline, there was no harm in eliminating a useless target. Ashlyn had enjoyed killing Derek. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, and the relish of the kill became overpowering to her, and she loved the way it felt to cut through her enemies’ flesh. She brought up the knife to her lips, slowly and tenderly licking the blood off of it. Derek’s blood. Ashlyn swallowed the crimson liquid, taking pleasure in the way it swiftly gilded down her throat. 

“Ashlyn…?” 

Genevieve stood in the doorway, and in the blackness of the room she could only make out two things: her husband was lying on the ground, and Ashlyn was bleeding. She assumed the worst, perhaps somebody had broken in and wounded the both of them. But as her older sister neared, Genevieve saw the knife glow in the faint candlelight. 

“You… you…” Genevieve’s eyes were wide; her throat closed up and dry. 

Genevieve’s got it bad, indeed,” Ashlyn cooed, bringing a hand up to the teenager’s face. Genevieve was frozen in her own fear, and didn’t respond. 

“Don’t you worry, dear. You’ll be joining your lover shortly.” 

~~~ 

Courtney hadn’t put up any sort of a fight, her eyes focusing on the pages of her favorite book till the very end. Delia had snapped when Edeline died at her sister’s hands, and given Ashlyn a bloody nose and a black eye, courtesy of her croquet mallet. But she’d been dispatched sooner than later. Fallon had cried. Oh, how she had cried. Still, Ashlyn had to remind herself that she was doing this for her family. Genevieve was easy, lost in her own mind long enough for Ashlyn to take what she needed. Hadley and Isla were inseparable, so she had to take on two at once. And the triplets, well… 

Ashlyn preferred not to think about the triplets in their final moments. 

Only one sister was left. Blair. 

Blair was, in fact, very close with Ashlyn. She was the only one who knew of Ashlyn’s plan. She knew that her elder would break eventually. That the pain would be too great; that the longing would overtake her senses and delve her into insanity. So she had hidden herself away, in the magical world. 

However, magic doesn’t solve everything. 

The two women stood in the center of the castle, just where Rowena had taught them how to be bland and proper only weeks ago. Blair had a look on her face that Ashlyn couldn’t quite describe, nor did she want to uncover it. 

“Sister…” Blair didn’t look Ashlyn in the eye, her gaze focused on the dust covered floor. “My… how you’ve fallen from grace.” 

“I do what I must,” Ashlyn replied. “And in a few moments you are going to see that the blood spilled will not be in vain.” 

“Not in vain…?” Blair murmured. Ashlyn saw a change in her stature, though it was barely noticeable at first. 

“Not in vain?!” she repeated thrusting her head upwards, and only now was she facing Ashlyn with her whole body. 

Blair looked like a zombie. Her eyes were pooled with dark circles; her makeup long since smeared away, most likely by tears. Her blue eyes were shimmering like the ocean on a sunny day, however Ashlyn could see the pain in them. And her red dress was covered in slightly darker red splotches, mainly around her abdomen. 

“You have no right,” she continued, her voice raising through the empty castle, “NO RIGHT, to tell me what is or is not in vain, Ashlyn! Brutally murdering your loved ones, your _sisters,_ who admired you and trusted you, for a god damn ritual you’re not sure even really works, now THAT is in vain!” Ashlyn remained silent. “Those girls, our family, they’re fucking gone! Despite what you think, they’re not coming back. And-“ 

Blair stopped short, and it was at this point that Ashlyn realized tears were streaming down her eyes at a constantly flowing pace. They shimmered as they left her eyes and dripped down onto her chest. 

“And when I’m done with you…” Blair displayed a scourge, one that she had rarely used for riding. The sharp tips embedded into the edges dangled, and for a moment, Ashlyn imagined them against her flesh. 

“You sure as hell won’t be coming back either.” 

Ashlyn struck first. Blair had been anticipating some sort of movement from her older sister, knowing full well of her intelligence, but it still came as a surprise when the blade sliced at her. Gashes were made all across her shoulder and arm, heavy red mixing with her light pink sleeves. Blair grunted, steadied herself, and lashed the scourge at Ashlyn’s head. Ashlyn had made no sound as the weapon connected with her jaw, cracking it. She didn’t react when blood began spilling from the open wound in her cheek. Thrusting the knife at Blair’s chest, the raven haired princess dodged the tip by a mere inch, and as she bent backwards she felt the hard point of a shoe hit her legs. Blair tumbled to the ground, heaving. The wind had been knocked out of her. 

“I kill to carry on the family name,” Ashlyn stated with a growl. “I kill for a purpose. Yet you try to take my life because you think that my doings are wrong?” 

She extended her arm and aimed the knife at the crumpled woman. “Your eldest superior deserves respect, Blair. Embrace your fate.” 

A pale, dainty hand grabbed Ashlyn’s arm and slammed her to the ground. Ashlyn’s head hit the pavement, causing her to drop the knife, and a sharp pain in the depths of her mouth caused Ashlyn to let out a squeak. The unmistakable warm liquid feel of blood splashed out from the bite mark on her tongue, filling her nostrils with an overwhelming metallic scent. Blair let forth a shriek, regaining the air in her lungs, as she began beating her fallen sister with the scourge, aiming for the most vulnerable spots. 

After what felt like hours, Blair stepped away from her half conscious sister, breathing as if the oxygen in the thick air was running out. Ashlyn steadied herself on a weak elbow, and shakily rose. She felt anger coursing through her veins. The unnaturally calm aura of hers gave way to something stronger, something much more vile. She spat a curse at Blair, blood droplets exiting her mouth. 

“THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT YOUR SISTER?!” it was incredibly hypocritical, but Ashlyn didn’t think before doing anymore. 

“No,” Blair said. “My sister is dead. She died a long time ago, the moment you decided to go through with this atrocious plan of yours.” 

The eldest princess ran towards Blair with the ferocity of a wolf closing in on its prey, and pinned her against the wall. 

“The husk of a woman I see before me is nothing more than a beast!” Blair screamed, digging her fingernails into the arms that held her still. 

Ashlyn kneed Blair in the ribs as hard as she could, and Blair’s ramblings turned to a vicious barrage of coughing and choking. Blood began to dribble out of her mouth at an alarming rate. Retrieving the knife, Ashlyn didn’t think twice before stabbing her younger sister directly in the chest. 

Blair didn’t know what to expect when death had caught her in his cold, clammy hands. There weren’t any fireworks or explosions. There wasn’t anybody to comfort her in her last moments, angelic wings wrapped close to her chest. It was so quiet. The room stood still as Blair collapsed to the ground, the piece of metal prying itself from the gaping hole it had made. She felt her sister towering over her. 

“So…” Blair’s words came out in a faint whisper, just loud enough for Ashlyn and only Ashlyn to hear. “Was it worth it? Killing eve ryo ne . . .?” 

“It will be,” Ashlyn replied with monotone. “Now rest, dear sister.” 

Blair laughed weakly, and a gush of blood escaped her lips. “You’re a monster, I can see that much now. Beasts at least have a natural instinct. They act upon the laws of nature. But you…” 

Ashlyn leaned close to her sister’s pale face. “What about me, Blair?" 

“You are an i-insult... in the face of God himself…….” 

And with that, she was gone. 

~~~ 

The light she emerged from was blinding. Heavenly, even so. It was ironic, something so beautiful coming out of an act so twisted. She looked as gorgeous as Ashlyn remembered, all those years ago. The portrait hanging in the entrance of the castle didn’t do justice, showing such a glorious creature in a plain, painted style. 

“Curious...” she spoke, and her voice resonated in the princess’s eardrums. “Very curious… pray tell, who has summoned me? I shall like very much to honor their name.” 

The remaining essence of Queen Isabella watched as the girl in front of her curtsied rather elegantly. It was a clashing picture, with all the scars and stains the young lady bore, yet she was as dainty as a feather. A skewed smile formed across her lips, her eyes wide with glee. 

“I am Ashlyn, the eldest of twelve sisters and the heir to the throne. You have no idea what I have gone through to retrieve your soul, mother.” 

Queen Isabella tilted her head. “You misunderstand, child. You shall not get off so easily.” 

Before Ashlyn could respond, the outline of the queen reared back and slammed head first into Ashlyn’s body. Her eyes were blinded by fear, a silent plea escaped her shaken fingertips. In all of her haste, she hadn’t remembered that whomever was summoned would need a vessel to reside in. And it seemed that Isabella took pleasure in harboring the spitting image of herself. The last things Ashlyn ever heard were her sisters' tortured screams echoing in her head, and the wild, ravenous laughter of her deceased mother. But there was something else in between the laughing. Somewhere, in the depths of her mind, she could feel the new soul taking over. 

_The geranium is a beautiful flower, but it wilts in due time. Wouldn’t you agree, Crown Princess Ashlyn?_

**Author's Note:**

> Oof.


End file.
